


Wish On A Star

by SpyroForLife



Series: Payback [4]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blood, Demons, Eventual Smut, M/M, Magic, NSFW, OCs - Freeform, Original Character - Freeform, Psychic, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-13 16:16:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4528665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpyroForLife/pseuds/SpyroForLife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gilbert Reidheid was finally born to parents who had feared that they would never conceive, it couldn't have been a more joyous occasion. But it soon became clear that their little son was gifted with strange and sometimes frightening powers. They will do all they can to support him, but as his powers develop and become more noticeable, their neighbors may not be as accepting.<br/>This is a short fic that will be detailing the life of Pavonis, my demon OC from Paying Recompense, before he was ever known as Pavonis. When he was just a human boy that experimented with magic he never should have. For those who are interested in this character and want to know his backstory, this will be for you. I hope you enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Our son can see the future."

**Author's Note:**

> This features entirely OCs. The only reason it's in 'Gravity Falls' is because the main character is later the antagonist of a Gravity Falls fic. Please don't read this if you haven't read the fic mentioned above, otherwise there will really be no context to who this is.

After nearly two years of marriage, Richerd Reidheid and Agnes Smith were beginning to lose hope of ever having a child. They prayed dutifully, ate healthy, tried various herbs and medicines, and laid together every night they could, but still, Agnes did not conceive.

The doctors said she was barren. It could be for any number of reasons, they claimed. Stress. Lack of faith. Maybe a result of childhood sickness. Whatever it was, she could only pray and keep trying, and hope for a blessing.

Agnes was frustrated but optimistic. She followed the advice from various doctors. She tried potions. She even tried reciting a "fertility spell" or two just in case, but when her husband caught on, he warned her against witchcraft, as it could anger God.

She agreed not to do any more spells, but still wished on the stars at night, asking more than anything for a child to bless their life. And one night, it seemed they twinkled a little more brightly for her, and encouraged, she sought out her husband and had him bed her. A few months later, she was with child, and they couldn't be more thrilled. Finally, their prayers have been answered.

 

One sunny day in August, in the year 1595, a boy was born to the happy couple. He cried softly and squirmed around a lot, never wanting to sit still. His cute round eyes were a light shade of green. He had only a few strands of curly red hair, but more grew in soon enough, his wavy locks proving his relation to Richerd beyond a reason of a doubt. They named him Gilbert, after Richerd's deceased father.

They soon took to calling him "Starn", which meant "star," for the way he would stare up at the night sky with such wonder. He would point at patterns, and his mother would have to tell him which they were. And if she didn't know, he would whine until she either looked it up in an astronomy book, or made something up.

Gilbert was a very curious child. As soon as he could crawl, he was climbing behind furniture and trying to get outside to play in the grass and look at the rolling hills and find bugs.

When he began to walk, he got into even more trouble, stumbling into chairs and tripping over things and even managing to break a pretty vase that held flowers next to the front door. His parents had found him crying, covered in water and dirt, but seemingly unharmed by the sharp pieces of ceramic.

Agnes kept a closer eye on him after that.

Gilbert soon began displaying more and more strange behavior, though. Sometimes his pupils grew large and he would stare into empty air, before flinching or crying or otherwise reacting to something no one else could see. The doctors said he was just being odd, all infants had quirks, he would grow out of it.

The local priest felt otherwise, saying that perhaps the child was being tormented by demons. He gave them some of his own remedies to try, directed them to the parts of the Bible that he felt would help them.

Despite the verses being read and various herbs sprinkled through the home, Gilbert continued to have his strange reactions. But they were less violent over time. As though he was getting used to them. He would quietly watch whatever was revealing itself to him, and then go on playing.

Agnes was still concerned, but Richerd decided to stop worrying about it, saying he probably just had an active imagination. So the parents moved on, focusing on teaching Gilbert how to walk and speak, teaching him about colors and animals and the various things in their house and outside it.

Then one day, when Gilbert was eight months old, he did something that immediately called attention back to his problem. He looked up, his eyes widened, and he grabbed Agnes's hand and began yanking on it. Unable to talk yet, he whined in distress as he tugged. She looked down and began to scold him, they were in public after all, doing some shopping. But then she saw the enlarged pupils and decided to let him pull her forward. Seconds after she stepped forward, an ornament of some sort fell behind her and shattered on the ground. She stared at its shiny shards, and then looked up.

"Sorry!" a woman called, leaning out of a window. "I knocked that off the windowsill on accident, are you okay?"

"Yes, I am well," Agnes called back. She gave Gilbert a cautious glance, and saw that he was happily back to chewing on the apple he had taken from her basket. She decided she was done shopping for today.

 

"What do you mean he saved you from getting hit in the head?" Richerd asked as he stretched out on his chair, groaning with exhaustion after a long day of work on the docks.

"We were out buying produce, he looked up, and pulled me forward right before I could get hit by something that had fallen out a window."

"Obviously he just saw it fall and warned you. Nothing weird about it."

"No, it would have fallen too fast, probably only took five seconds. He was trying to yank me away before it could have ever been knocked over."

"Hmmph." Richerd grunted, watching Gilbert play with his toys, the boy's back away from them as he pushed a small wooden wagon around. Silently, the man picked up his hat and threw it.

Gilbert crawled to the side, looking over as the hat passed him. He picked it up and placed it on his head, laughing.

"He couldn't have heard that," Richerd said.

Agnes didn't approve of the idea of throwing things at their son, but she had to make sure that wasn't a coincidence. She looked around, picked up the thin branch they've whipped his butt with a few times before. Then she sneaked quietly toward the boy, holding it behind her back. He froze, then turned, already lifting his hands in fright.

"Now see, how did he know to be scared?" Agnes asked, revealing the switch. Gilbert's lip quivered.

"I didn't want to think it, the idea is crazy, but... I think our son can see the future."


	2. "Did he just throw lightning?"

“Hi, I'm Gilbert, wanna play?”

The little girl with blonde pigtails giggled and started to take Gilbert's offered hand, but then the girl's mother ran up and grabbed her hand. “No, Anny, that boy has been touched by the devil! Don't go near him!”

“Okay, Ma...” The girl allowed herself to be tugged away.

Five-year-old Gilbert sighed and plopped down onto his butt in the grass. He looked at his toys and addressed them. “Why are they so mean to me?”

The toys didn't answer of course, but he liked to pretend sometimes. As he watched, the stuffed horse toy slowly stood up, a purple hue surrounding it as its floppy legs held it upright.

“I don't know,” Gilbert said in a lower voice, as though the horse was speaking to him. “You're really great.”

“Aw, am I?” he replied in his normal voice.

“The greatest!” The horse swung about, legs dangling. “Don't be sad! You still have your friend John!”

“John is always so busy,” Gilbert said, hugging the horse to himself. The purple hue faded as he stopped using his magic. And indeed, that was what it was; magic. Gilbert was a psychic.

The other folks in town didn't like to acknowledge his powers. They cast him dirty looks, avoided him when he and his mother walked around. If seen using any of his abilities, he was usually yelled at and startled into stopping. He was treated a little better if he was out with his father, who wouldn't tolerate such rudeness toward his son. But Richerd often had very busy days and was gone from sunrise to sunset, so there was never really time for him to go out with Gilbert. There were the Sundays where the three of them would go to church together, but that was about the only time the boy got to be out in public with his father.

And Gilbert hated church. He liked when they sang, but he was constantly being referenced in the teachings, the priest pointing him out and asking him questions, saying that he has been chosen by the devil for some dark purpose and he must not allow himself to be led astray. From almost the time Gilbert could talk, the man was telling him that he must pray and ask to be forgiven for his sins.

Gilbert didn't like that much. He was just a little kid. He wasn't bad. Why should he ask forgiveness when he's never hurt anyone? He used his powers to help people. Usually the only people he helped were his parents, but he was still helping. He would open the door when his mother's arms were full, lift objects down from high shelves if she had trouble reaching, and with his ability to see into the future, he could tell her when the least busiest time of day would be to go into town. Or when it would be the coolest, so she could do garden work.

And he loved being out in the garden with her. She could ask him to pull up weeds, and they would just be torn out of the ground. No need for hurting their hands on the rough plants. He could scoop out dirt and lower seeds into the ground, or pick fully grown fruits and vegetables, all without physically touching them. It saved a lot of time, and his parents appreciated his powers. In fact, they were certain that they weren't bestowed by the devil, but rather gifted by God himself, for some great purpose that they didn't yet know.

Gilbert didn't really know why he could do the things he could. All he knew was that it worked. That he could think about moving something, magic happened, and it moved. That he could think really hard about a place and time, and then get images of what would happen there.

He was even beginning to see something new when he looked at everyone. They would be surrounded by color. Like a second skin over them. He could see both their appearance and the color at the same time. It reminded him of his magic, a sort of shimmering energy. There were many different colors, everyone a little bit different from everyone else. And he would watch how this energy responded to the person's emotions. It would recede and become dim when they were sad, it would wave and jump when they were happy, and when they were angry, it would shoot outward violently.

He hasn't told his parents about this yet. This was a power that would probably be kept to himself.

Gilbert laid down as he played with his toys, glancing around to see if anyone was staring at him. He was at the market his mother loved, waiting in an empty area while she picked up bread and produce and other necessities. Besides the girl who had come to greet him, no one else has approached him. In fact, no one was even really looking at him, just walking around buying what they needed and ignoring the young child playing alone.

Gilbert's eyes lingered on a man whose color was angry, though he was all by himself. The shade of the color told him that the man was usually a grumpy person, though how he was able to tell personality from this, he still didn't know. He couldn't help but wonder why that person was so mad. It was a nice day. There were flower stalls right there. Seemed pretty nice.

Out of curiosity, Gilbert focused on him, trying to see into his future. There was nothing that interesting, just the man going home and sitting on a chair to read. Sitting down alone, though. House was empty. Hm.

The boy had a limited ability to also see into the past of others. Something that was actually easier to do than looking into the future, he was just getting used to doing it. He did it now, and the images changed. Now he could see the man standing in front of a house, yelling at a woman. The woman was crying and screaming back at him, shaking an open envelope.

Gilbert didn't really understand what they were arguing about. They were using a lot of words he didn't understand. Then the woman threw the envelope down, crushed it under a foot, and then ran away. The man punched the wall and went in another direction.

“Aw, he got into a fight,” Gilbert said sadly, blinking and letting the image fade, returning him to the present. He gave a start as he saw that a few people were staring at him. “What?”

There were mutters of “demon eyes” and “witchcraft” as the people looked away, and Gilbert frowned, pressing his fingers to his eyes. He hasn't gotten to look in a mirror while doing it, but apparently, whenever he used a power, his eyes turned completely purple just like the magic. Except for his pupils, which became large like they always have. Sometimes the color changed, sometimes not. He was going to learn how to control it.

Luckily, no one actually confronted Gilbert. Last time someone had tried, Richerd had hunted them down and punched them in the face. News got around pretty quick in their small town, and Richerd made it clear that he didn't mind going to jail to protect his son. No one has tried to touch the boy since.

“I'm not a witch,” he said to himself as some brave shopper actually yelled at him as they passed. “I'm a psychic.” He wasn't going to let the things people said bother him. His parents were the only ones that mattered. And they told him that he was talented and smart. So he was.

And everyone else was just going to have to get used to him. Because he wasn't going to stop using his abilities any time soon.

Gilbert stood up, lifting his hands. His toys flew up with him. The horse, his wagon, the ragdoll that his mom had made for him. They all floated around him, and he put his hands back down. They remained suspended in the air, held there only because he wanted them to be there. People took notice and began backing away.

“I can make things float around!” he yelled at them. “It's not bad! It won't hurt you! Why are you running away?”

A few people had fled, but others were glaring at him. He could see the colors around them shifting. A lot of anger. Distrust. They didn't like what they were seeing. Only a few seemed to just feel bad for him.

The accusations grew louder. More insulting. Demon spawn. Child of Satan. Antichrist.

“My mom says that you're just saying that because you don't understand me!” he shouted. The toys spun around him. “Look at me! I'm just a kid! Why are you all being so mean to me?”

There was a flash in his vision. Something he recognized as his future vision, trying to warn him. He leapt to the left, and a tomato flew past him.

“Mom!” he called. “Mom, help!” He dropped his toys into his arms and began running as people actually threw things at him. He opened his awareness as much as he could, but it soon became a confusing jumble of images of things flying at him, and he couldn't dodge everything. He stumbled as an apple hit his side. He ducked past hands that grabbed at him, only for an object he couldn't see to slam into his temple. He cried out in pain and landed on his hands, toys scattering everywhere. He grabbed them as quickly as he could, but that gave the others time to reach him. A rough hand seized his arm, and he cried out in pain, trying to yank away.

“You little devil, you need to have that evil whipped out of you,” a grisly man with a tobacco-stained beard growled at him.

“Mom!” he screamed, struggling. “Ma, help!” He could see her, whether it was in the present or future he couldn't tell, but he could see her trying to push through the crowd, swinging her purse at people and yelling. But she was being blocked by the angry villagers.

It was up to him, he had to think of a way out of this. But his head really hurt, his arm hurt, he was still being pelted with objects and he had dropped his toys. He closed his eyes tightly, yelling, “Leave me _alone_!” The air seemed to grow hot around him, and he felt a frightening sensation in his chest, pressure building up in his body. It felt like magic, but no magic he's used before. This was a strong tingle that traveled through him, making him shake, it reminded him of when he touched metal on cold days. His parents had called it a shock. Right now, it felt like he was getting a really big shock.

There were unsure mutters, and he felt the grip on his arm loosen, but he kept his eyes closed. The feeling wasn't going away. It felt like the magic was fighting to escape him. He decided to let it. He swung his free arm out, all his fear and anger going into the motion, and he heard a tremendous bang and a blast of air that knocked him back.

The hand on his arm immediately released, and he heard several pained cries. The air seemed to sizzle, and he wrinkled his nose at the smell. Opening his eyes, he saw that everyone had backed away. Several people had burnt clothes, smoke curling off their skin. The man who had been holding his arm was cradling his hand, which looked like he had set it on a hot stove.

Confused, Gilbert looked at his own hands. There was no trace of... whatever had happened.

“Did he just throw lightning?” someone muttered to another. The sentiment was repeated. Lightning had flown from that child's hands. Actual lightning, with thunder.

Gilbert took advantage of their confusion to gather up his things and run, ducking between someone's legs and making his way over to his mother. She swept him up into her arms and held him close.

“Are you okay, did they hurt you?” she asked.

“They threw things at me,” he whined.

“You should all be ashamed of yourselves, attacking a child!” she yelled at the crowd, who by now had turned around and were approaching her.

“He is wicked and must be cleansed,” someone said. “If the devil will not leave him, then he must be put to death.”

Scared, Gilbert threw his hand out at them. With his eyes open, he now saw the lightning as it left him, striking the person who had spoken and hurling him to the ground. He struggled to breathe for a few moments, then sat up, wheezing. The crowd backed away, but their accusations became more outraged at the sight of this.

“He's only attacking because you provoked him first!” Agnes yelled. “You all banded together to attack a child, he defended himself! If you would leave him alone, he wouldn't get angry!”

“Watch yourself, miss,” a man in the crowd said angrily. “We will not be spoken to this way by a woman.”

“Well, then come by my house tonight and you can be spoken to this way by my husband.” She turned and stalked away, carrying Gilbert in her arm. She hardly noticed as her other hand swung her basket hard enough that it lost most of its contents.

 

“I'm sorry I ruined your trip,” Gilbert said sadly as Agnes began running a bath for him.

“Don't worry about it,” she replied, using some of the water to clean his face off. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I did yell at them,” he admitted. “When they were all ignoring me, I used my powers to make my toys float and I yelled at them. They got mad.”

“They shouldn't have gotten so mad at you. You never use your powers to hurt anyone. If they actually got to know you, they would know this.”

“...Are you still gonna make me go to school when it starts?”

“Yes, you still need your education. You're smart, it'll be so good for you.”

“What if the other kids don't play with me?”

“You'll find someone you can get along with. Trust me.”

He nodded, but he didn't believe it. “Okay...” He flicked his fingers up, watching the sparks fly out. They were purple, just like the rest of his magic.

“So, how long have you been able to do that?” Agnes asked gently.

“Just since today,” he replied. “When everyone was trying to grab me, that was the first time I did it.”

“Hmm. Well, looks like you have even more gifts than we thought. You're very special. And don't let anyone make you feel like you're bad. Because you're not.”

He nodded a little more firmly this time. “Yeah. I'm good!”

“And I can't wait to see what else you're capable of.”


	3. They got used to him.

After the situation at the market, Gilbert stayed even more secluded. He would practice his abilities privately, in the yard and far away from judgmental eyes. When he was bored of that, he would read books. Agnes had taught him to read very early on, and he loved it. It wasn't long before he went through everything in the house and was asking for more. So she bought him non-fiction books that he could learn from. He read about animals and countries and history. His favorite book was about the planets and stars. It was a constantly changing field of study, the information all very new and controversial. He was fascinated by it.

He even took the time to look up which stars were present in the sky when he was born, and pointed them all out to his mother.

“Look, this constellation was just recently named!” he said excitedly as he pointed to one. “It's called Pavo. Isn't that a funny name? Pavo. And this is its biggest star, Pavonis. It means peacock! Isn't that funny?”

“Yes, it is funny,” Agnes agreed. “Oh, I bet it was in the sky when I was asking the stars for a child. And they blessed me with you.”

Gilbert grinned and hugged the book. “Thanks, peacock!”

Encouraged by her son's interest in science, Agnes began teaching him math, so he would at least have a basic idea of how it worked before school started. He figured it out fairly quickly, though didn't progress much further than addition before it was time to go to school.

It wasn't what he was expecting. The teacher hardly looked at him, the other kids ignored him. He did his work, spoke to everyone respectfully, and was generally quiet. Yet no one took the time to talk to him. He was hurt, but didn't let it show. One day he would move to a new place where no one knew him, and then he could have friends. He would learn all he could, go to college, and get one of those degrees his mom told him about. Then he could get a good job, and everyone would be jealous.

But after a few weeks, it seemed that the others got used to him. The teacher began calling on him more, once it became apparent that he was a good student. The other kids said hi to him when he walked in and sat down. A few even offered him snacks during lunch, and when someone didn't have much to eat, he would give them something from his lunchbox.

One afternoon he came home a little late, but before Agnes could really start yelling at him, he told her that it was because he had played a game of tag with some other kids after school. That immediately cheered her up.

Very carefully, Gilbert began showing the others his powers. He knew that their parents must be spreading horrible lies about him, so he wanted to tell them the truth. He began telling them their futures, and would pick up items around the room and shuffle them around. He would explain that it wasn't him using witchcraft, he just thought about it and it happened. Nothing to be afraid of.

He even tried to teach them how to do it, but no one seemed able to figure it out. But they stopped being afraid of his abilities, once they saw that they were harmless.

They were wary of his lightning shooting ability, but he almost never used it, saying that he didn't want to hurt anyone. Besides, it was very distracting.

School soon became fun for him, as he finally found acceptance among the other students. Some of them resolutely avoided him, on orders from their parents, but the rest ignored such warnings. Gilbert wasn't a bad kid, they insisted. He was nice and smart and helpful. No reason to be afraid of him.

Over the next few years, the people of the village slowly became more accepting of Gilbert. They still worried about him, prayed for him and asked the priest to watch him, but they no longer shunned him. They could see how nicely he played with the other kids, how polite he was to his elders, and it was becoming more and more apparent that he wasn't being influenced by any evil. Sure, the devil was patient, but was he really this patient? One would expect the boy to be showing some kind of sign, but there was nothing. Besides the odd powers, he was completely normal.

And he was still developing more abilities. He refined his telekinesis and past/future seeing, and could wield his lightning easily. He was soon able to levitate himself using his powers, and then he began displaying an ability to simply disappear from wherever he was and reappear somewhere else. This teleportation brought on a new wave of panic and mistrust, but he didn't use it for anything sinful. He only used it to travel from his house to school, or to the market or another shop he needed to go to. It seemed he could only use it to go to places he has actually seen before. He explained that he needed a target destination, he couldn't just imagine a place he has never been to.

So like before, the public's alarm faded, and he was accepted again.

When he had free time, and was allowed to travel without his parents being around, Gilbert began going to the public library. There, he would find somewhere to hide among the shelves and read books about magic. They all seemed to vary from each other, no one really understanding it, many calling it a myth. Just the stuff of legends and stories. Fiction. Well, it clearly wasn't just fiction.

He began reading about astrology, the influence of stars on those born under them. He looked for what he had begun thinking of as his star: Pavonis. However, neither it nor its constellation Pavo seemed to have much astrology linked to them. Their effects were apparently still being studied. But one book claimed that stars could grant strange gifts to worthy people. Could that be what has happened?

He didn't know. He soon moved from stars to reading about demons and supernatural creatures. He had to be really sneaky about reading these books; it often raised some eyebrows. His parents were especially paranoid about him bringing books like that around the house. They were very religious and felt it would anger God.

But by the age of eight, Gilbert was certain that he didn't believe in God. This was something he told no one. He knew it would not be tolerated. He's heard about what happens to people who had no faith. They were mocked, beaten, sometimes killed. At the very least, they were usually ridiculed and forced to run away from their homes, driven away by their neighbors.

Knowing how he was treated before, Gilbert did not doubt that there would be a mass outcry if he came out as an atheist. So he was a good boy, and went to church with his parents, and pretended to care about the sermons. He even asked to be baptized, just to ease the townsfolk. Surely he couldn't be possessed, they said. Not after a baptism. He was a child of God like any other.

He gained confidence in himself as time passed. His skills have only been improving, and he was doing quite well in school. He wasn't the brightest student, but he did well enough. Enough that he had a fair bit of respect.

When he was twelve, he began dressing up and taking a blanket and a couple pillows out to the market, setting them up a good distance from the other stalls and offering fortune telling to strangers. It was a slow start, but news got around. The people who knew him would laugh and talk about him from a distance, and a few even humored him. But gold was gold, and when the things he said actually began coming true, he got more interest.

The other villagers had known he could see the future, but they hadn't known his vision was so detailed and accurate. And that it could go so far into the future. He began telling people of things that would happen weeks and months ahead. And after enough time, there was plenty of confirmation that he was right.

With the gold coming in, he was soon able to buy a crystal ball to help with his look. Better clothing, more comfortable pillows to sit on. He even made a sign.

His parents found out about what he was doing fairly quickly, but they didn't discourage it. They just told him to be careful. And with him using his money to pay for his own things, it gave them more money to pay taxes with, with extra they could use for luxury items.

Gilbert really wanted to do magic shows, but his parents told him that was too risky. The fortune telling was one thing, but him using his telekinesis and lightning powers in front of a lot of people could draw unwanted attention. What if a newcomer tried to hurt him? Or take him away as an oddity? He could even be imprisoned and experimented on.

He decided that he would wait until he was older before trying to do shows.

With age came another strange realization about himself. For once, it wasn't related to his abilities, but simply to his personality. He wasn't interested in dating.

At first, he didn't really concern himself with it. But as time passed he become more and more aware of how different he was. He never talked about how pretty the girls were. He never flirted with them or discussed tactics for getting their fathers to like him. When the topic of marriage came up, he found himself utterly indifferent. He didn't want to get married. He didn't want a girlfriend or wife at all. He brought this up to his parents, who suggested that perhaps he just hasn't met the right girl yet. They assured him that it won't be long before he sees a girl who just makes his heart stop, and he'll want to court her.

Having his heart stopped seemed painful. He didn't care much for that metaphor. But he took their word for it. Maybe he was just too young. Maybe he'll get these feelings a little bit later.

But by the age of fourteen, he still had no interest. At least, not in dating. He did start to pay more attention to how attractive others were, though. He found himself admiring the appearance of quite a few of his fellow students, as well as random people in town.

He wondered if this is what his parents meant. Was this falling in love? He got the feeling this wasn't quite it. This wasn't what they usually described as love. He didn't feel flutters in his stomach, he didn't want to have a family with these people or spend the rest of his life with them. He just wanted... he wasn't sure what he wanted. Something. Something that caused a stir in his gut, that caused heat to flush through his body.

Nervously, he asked his parents what that feeling meant. They told him that it was lust. A sinful feeling that should not be acted upon. When he expressed confusion about how one would act on it, they explained that when you marry, you consummate the relationship by having sex. Lust, they said, was wanting to lie with someone without being married. It was wrong, and if he was feeling that way, then he needed to pray for forgiveness.

He rolled his eyes at that, and decided to turn to books for information, as he usually had to whenever his parents tried to use religious explanations. This was more productive. It was just a reaction his body was having to him seeing someone attractive. Perfectly natural. It had nothing to do with marriage. You could feel the same thing toward someone you were married to, but in that case, it was usually felt alongside love.

“So I'm not in love with these people... I just desire them sexually,” he muttered to himself as he closed the book on human physiology. “Hm. I wonder why I feel this toward both genders then...” That took some more searching, but he finally figured it out. While it was considered unnatural, there were people who felt attraction to males and females like this. There didn't seem to be a name for the condition, but there was debate over the immorality of it.

It was at this point that he closed the book and sighed. “Who cares... if I think both genders look good then that's no one's business but my own.” He slid the book into its place and got up, walking outside. He glanced over toward the town's clock. It was only noon, and a Saturday. He had several hours to waste before he was expected back home.

After considering what he wanted to do, he decided to walk to the farm closest to his house. It was one of the most productive farms in the town, growing almost all of the staple crops that the townsfolk depended on. Oats, turnips, potatoes. Wheat if the weather allowed it. They had assorted fruits and vegetables growing there as well, and plenty of goats for cheese. Those who had the money could even buy pigs from them, but as the town was relatively poor, their main customers for meat were the government officials or visiting royalty.

The farm was maintained by a man and woman in their forties and their five children of various ages. The oldest was a man of twenty-four and currently trying to court a wife. There was a lady of twenty, a boy of eighteen, a boy of sixteen, and finally, a young girl of only twelve.

Gilbert had made friends with the sixteen-year-old boy, whose name was John. He was very bulky and muscular, and while his grammar wasn't the best and he was illiterate, he had excellent common sense and could tell you anything you wanted to know about any plant, animal, or tool on the farm. He could also count money like no one else; no one could cheat him out of anything they owed.

While John wasn't the most intelligent of company, Gilbert still liked being around him. He didn't care about him being unusual. In fact, he was fascinated by his 'weirdness' and was always asking to see his powers. Gilbert would share them with him, and talk to the boy about whatever he has been studying in school, and the new discoveries that scientists were making. John didn't go to school; none of his siblings did. Their help was needed on the farm. Their mother could read, as could the twenty-year-old sister. These two would read the news to them and keep them updated on anything important, and would also read from the Bible and other books. The men, however, felt no need to learn the skill.

So John had to learn things from Gilbert, who was more than happy to teach him. He taught him about space, and about the weather, and whatever other subjects the boy was curious about. While John didn't fully understand most of it, he did his best to listen and show interest anyway.

Gilbert could just teleport to the farm. But he wanted to walk. It was a nice day. He enjoyed his stroll, watching the clouds, waving to people he passed. He admired the flowers that were beginning to bloom, how the grass was becoming green and lively. He loved spring.

Soon he was on the path leading to the farm. This road split off toward his house, and a few others, before continuing on to the farm. It was quite a walk, and the farmers usually used one of their horses to haul goods to the market. The path was well worn down by now.

When he reached the farm, he leapt over the fence and approached the house, passing fields of crops. He could see the five siblings working even now, on a weekend and during the hottest part of day. Knocking on the door got him no answer, so he headed to the barn.

There, he found the mother milking one of the goats. She greeted him but didn't get up, quite focused on her task.

“I was just coming by to see if John had time to play, but you all look busy,” Gilbert said.

“We are quite busy, but if you come back at seven, he should be able to see you then.”

“Okay, thank you.” He inclined his head politely to her, and headed back out. He'll return to the library, then. There were plenty of books there for him to distract himself with. Maybe he could do a little more research. Last time he talked to John, the boy had wanted to know more about how rain worked. He was going to give him the best possible explanation he could. When it came to his friends, he may only have a few, but he wanted the best for all of them. He never wanted to lose them.


	4. "Did you just kiss me?"

After wasting time reading, Gilbert left the library and headed back to the farm. He took his time, knowing that whenever any of the farmers said they would be done by a certain time, they usually weren't. It was probably thirty minutes past seven when he arrived, and he still saw every member of the family working. They seemed to be finishing up, though.

John looked up as he entered the yard, and picked up his basket of turnips, waving at him. He hurried them over into the barn, and then came back out. “Ma, I'm meeting with Gilbert now!”

“Did you clean out the goat pens like I told you to?” his mother called.

“Yes Ma!”

“Even Bessie's?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, but wipe your face off, you haven't bathed yet.”

John used his shirt to clean dirt off his face as he jogged toward Gilbert. He held out his hand and vigorously shook the other's. “Hiya, Gilbert! I haven't seen you in a long time!”

“Two months,” Gilbert said, managing not to wince as the other threatened to yank his arm out of its socket. “Except for passing you a few times in the market.”

“Yeah, but there's a lot of crops to harvest right now. Things have been busy. So how are you? How's school?” John let go of his friend's hand, walking with him aimlessly around the farm.

“It's going well. Things have gotten a bit complicated, but I'm still doing okay. I do really well with science, though I get into a lot of arguments with the teacher. She's very religious and whenever the Bible contradicts something that's been proven, she still sides with the Bible. So silly.”

“Yeah... but it is the word of God, so I'd take that over the word of man any day.”

“John,” Gilbert sighed. “The Bible was written by men itself. Surely you must know that? It's got errors too. Just... no one wants to admit it.” He rested his arms over the fence that surrounded the pig pen. “Sometimes I think I'm the only one that doesn't believe.”

“I know you're a bright kid. But what if you're wrong? And God punishes you? I don't want that to happen.” John rested his arms next to him, looking at the sow as her piglets suckled from her. “I wouldn't risk it.”

“If I'm wrong? Well... I could be. But then, a just God would understand, right? I could just explain why I didn't believe, maybe... maybe He'll accept it. After all, if He made all of us... then He already knows who will believe and who won't.”

John gave a short laugh. “You sure talk smart. You should be a teacher.”

“I'm thinking about it. Maybe be a teacher at one of those fancy universities.”

“You could! Hey, did you read up about the rain?”

“Oh yeah, I did!”

Gilbert proceeded to tell the other about the water cycle, and the two were soon sitting on the fence as they discussed it. John's mother came by at one point to give them some apples and freshly made cheese, but she soon had to leave again to get dinner started.

“So water just... floats up into the air?” John said with wonder as he shoved cheese into his mouth. “Whoa. Like magic.”

“Yeah. A lot like my magic.” Gilbert gestured to some dirt, and it floated up into the air. He twirled it around, then let it drift away in the wind.

“It gets hot, and just... changes. Wow.” John smacked on the cheese for a few moments, looking around. Then he grabbed Gilbert's arm and pointed at the mud puddle that the pigs were currently resting around. “Hey, can you make that... um, what's the word?”

“Evaporate?”

“Evaporate!”

“Well, I don't exactly have any powers to make things hot... oh wait. Wait, lightning burns things. Okay, hold on! Cover your ears, this is gonna be loud.”

John covered his ears, and Gilbert launched a bolt of electricity at the puddle. Thunder clapped, causing the pigs to squeal and hurry toward the other side of the pen. The water splashed, and some steam rose up.

“That!” Gilbert yelled, pointing at the steam. “The water turns into that! See, it's floating up! And it'll drift apart until we can't even see it, but it'll keep going up, and then it turns into clouds!” He pointed up at the clouds.

“Huh. That does look like a tiny cloud.” John watched it until it wasn't visible, and then looked up at the clouds. “I wonder how the clouds float. They must be very light.”

“I tried to look that up, but no one really knows. All we have are guesses.” Gilbert tossed the core of his apple into the pen to appease the pigs. They squabbled over it, one claimed it, and they all slowly laid back down.

“And those clouds get really heavy and turn gray and fall apart into rain?”

“You got it. And then it starts all over again. When it's cold, it turns into ice as it falls, and then we get snow and hail.”

“Hm.” John nodded, and tossed the remnants of his own food in to the pigs. “You're really smart. I wish I could go to school.”

“It's pretty fun sometimes, but your family needs you here to help them. It must be interesting, working on a farm.”

“Yeah, but it's hard work. We don't get a lot of time to rest and play. It's okay though. Hopefully my older brother will marry, and his wife can help us. And when they have kids, it will be more hands to help us.”

“Will any of your siblings ever leave the farm?”

“Jane might.” Jane was John's older sister. “She's been courting this visiting politician's son. They seem quite taken with each other. If he proposes, then she will be moving out with him.”

“Hm. Well, tell me how that goes.” Gilbert looked up at the sky, kicking his feet a bit. Then he looked over at John. It has been a while since he's seen him. The boy was a looker. All muscle, tanned skin, blonde hair with blue eyes. He heard girls at school talk about him sometimes. He was handsome, and by the time he was eighteen, he could probably court whoever he wanted.

Gilbert's eyes roamed down the other's face, taking in the square jaw covered with stubbly hair; the beginnings of a beard. The little scars and burns from various accidents that inevitably happened when one spent so much time working with sharp tools. He felt his heart speed up and his eyes widened. Oh no.

“What's the matter?” John asked, blinking at him. “Do I have a spider on me?” He brushed his hand over his face.

Gilbert shook his head, snapping out of it. “Sorry. I just...” John was attractive. John was attractive and Gilbert was imagining them doing _things_ and _you better stop right there Reidheid before you say something you'll regret_. “Yeah, I thought I saw a spider, but it was just a weird shadow.”

“Oh. Okay.” The boy ran his fingers back through his messy hair, which looked like it hadn't been cut in a while. And the last time it was, it wasn't that clean of a job either. Still, Gilbert wouldn't mind stroking through the straw-colored strands- No, stop it!

“So do you have any other questions?” he asked, voice cracking.

John started at that, stared at him, then laughed. “Your voice did the thing!”

Gilbert blushed with embarrassment. “No it didn't.”

“It so did. But it's okay. You'll grow out of it. It may take a few years, but your voice will get deeper and then it won't do that anymore. Mine doesn't.”

“Yeah, I remember when your voice was higher. Sounds really good now, though.”

John tilted his head. “Um. Thanks?”

“Do you still like to sing?”

“I love to sing, but it's hard to remember the words to everything.”

“Want to sing something you do remember?”

“Sure.” John began singing a hymn that his parents had taught him and his siblings. His voice wasn't always on key, but it sounded nice regardless. Gilbert felt his palms grow sweaty, and hastily wiped them off on his pants. He joined in, having heard this song enough times from the other to have it memorized.

They sang together for a while, and Gilbert spent the time staring at the other, trying to figure out if he was really feeling what he thought he was. But as minutes passed, it became obvious. He was attracted to his friend. Attracted in that way that everyone said was a sin, an abomination. He would never be able to act on it. Although... John was open-minded, right? At least, he didn't completely shut Gilbert down when he started talking about science and things that contradicted the Bible. Maybe he would be open-minded about this too.

Gilbert glanced around. He had to at least know. He had to know what it felt like to do the things his body urged him to do. He would just have to be sneaky.

As they finished the last note of the song, he leaned over and kissed the other. He didn't quite hit his mark, missing John's mouth and instead pecking his cheek. It was a lot like the little cheek kisses his mother used to give him.

John immediately shut his mouth, leaning back. “What?”

Gilbert's face grew red. “Um... s-sorry, I just... oh man.” He didn't know what to say for himself. “I just... felt an urge and... I'm sorry.”

John touched his face, furrowing his brow. “Did you just kiss me?”

“I uh... kinda?”

John said nothing, looking around. No one was paying attention to him; the rest of his family seemed to have gone inside by now. He looked back at Gilbert, a frown tugging on his lips. “The only time you usually kiss someone is when you're with a family member, or someone you love. You aren't neither.”

“I know, I'm sorry, I just... really like you, I mean it's not love, but like... you're my best friend and I just thought it'd be fun if we... never mind, I'm being weird again.” Gilbert sighed and looked down, fiddling with the strings at the bottom of his shirt.

“You are really weird, Reidheid. But... I like you too. I've never kissed anyone before, but maybe I could learn. So I'd be ready to kiss a girl later.”

Gilbert cheered up slightly. “So I can kiss you?”

The other shrugged. “I don't know if it's right, but... it won't hurt anyone. Just practice.”

“Heh, yeah. Just practice. All right, so I guess we just...” Gilbert leaned toward him, and the other hesitated, but leaned in too. The first brushing of their lips together caused a tingle that made both immediately retreat. They stared at each other, surprised by the sensation. Then they cautiously joined together again.

“Mm...” Gilbert's eyes slipped shut as this touch lingered, and despite how their noses were uncomfortably pressed together, he kinda liked it.

John leaned back. “Hold on.” His hands cupped Gilbert's face, tilting it as he kissed him. The younger boy sighed as they suddenly seemed closer, and he realized it was because with a simple tilt of the head, John had corrected the problem with their noses. The farmer sure could be clever sometimes.

Gilbert relaxed into the other's hold, liking the feel of the hands on his jaws. They were large, calloused, but he felt secure with them holding him. The hands soon slipped down, resting on his shoulders.

“Hm.” John hummed a bit as he separated. He licked his lips off. “That was... interesting.”

Gilbert blinked his eyes open, giving a soft sigh. “It was,” he agreed. “It feels nice. No wonder people do it.”

“Why are your lips so soft, though?”

Gilbert shrugged. “I'm not out in the sun as much as you. Also my parents never let me bite on my lips, they would tell me to stop. So I guess they stayed all soft.”

“Oh. I chewed on mine a lot.” John actually did exactly that as he stared at the other, taking in all the little details of his face. He slid a hand back up to cup Gilbert's jaw, thumb stroking below his eye. “I've never really looked this close, but... I like your eyes. They're a pretty shade of green.”

“Thank you. I like yours too.”

“And this hair... It's so wild.” John brushed his hand through the other's hair, curling the locks around. “Your mom doesn't make you cut it?”

“No. I mean, she trims the bottom off a lot. But she lets me keep it long. She says it's like Dad's when he was my age.”

“Nice. Ma's probably gonna cut mine again. It's gonna get hotter, so it feels better if it's really short in the summer.”

“Makes sense.” Gilbert smiled as the other played with his hair. He liked that. He still didn't feel any love, but the attraction was still there. It seemed purely physical. He wondered how far he could take it. “I um... wanna tell you a secret.”

“Okay.”

“And you can't tell anyone. This is very secret.”

“I won't tell no one.”

Gilbert took in a breath, and said, “As it turns out, I like boys and girls. I think they both look good. Is... is that bad?”

John blinked, letting go of him. “Both? So... you like girls, but then you also are like a girl, and like boys?”

Gilbert shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“That's really weird.”

“I know.”

“How much like?”

“As in, I'll see some girls and think they look really pretty and wouldn't mind getting to touch them and... you know. But then I'll also see certain boys that I also wouldn't mind getting... close to, so to speak. Apparently there have been some people like me, but they say it's a disease. That it's wrong. I guess everything about me is just one big sin.”

“Hey, everything happens for a reason, right? You're God's kid too, he made you like this for a reason. Your powers, your liking both genders... there's a reason. I don't know what, but there is one.”

“Hm. Maybe. Or maybe there's not a reason at all. It could just be who I am. Does everything really need an explanation?” Gilbert rested his elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. “I don't know why I have the feelings I do. But I do know that I want to explore them. I want to learn about myself. I liked kissing you, yet I'm not in love. It's so... weird.”

“I kinda liked kissing you too. It felt nice.”

Gilbert chuckled, glancing over at him. “You know... there's something we could do that I've heard feels even better.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I may have... read some books from a section of the library I really should not have gone to. And... it gave me some ideas.”

“What?”

“Would your house happen to have any olive oil?”


	5. "This is who I am!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beginning of this chapter is smut, be warned, haha

Gilbert inhaled deeply, fingernails scraping down John's back. He whimpered into the older boy's shoulder, and a firm thrust against his insides had him crying out in pleasure.

“Is this right?” John panted into his ear, and his voice was low and breathless, making heat pulse through Gilbert's body.

The younger managed a nod, head falling back and a moan escaping him as the other slowly withdrew. Then there was another thrust in, and the jolt that went up his body was more pleasurable than painful.

“Nn, you can... you can go faster,” Gilbert whispered, and while the other was nervous, he obliged.

Tightening his grip on Gilbert's hip, the other arm bracing next to him, John moved faster. His rhythm faltered as the other writhed underneath him, but when he heard those desperate moans, he realized he was enjoying it.

“This is so weird,” he groaned, eyes closed and a bright blush on his face.

“So weird but it feels so good,” Gilbert replied. As his partner got back into rhythm, the friction melted the pain into a deep ecstasy, and he relaxed into it, just letting himself enjoy it. He clawed at the other's back and arched, bringing more of his skin into contact with the other. He was hard, but John's toned abdomen pressing against his dick was more than enough for him.

Needing more, Gilbert soon wrapped his legs around the other's waist, lifting himself up slightly. They moaned together as John managed to plunge in deeper, and after a few more thrusts, Gilbert felt him hit a spot that made him see stars.

“Aahnn... do that again!” he shouted.

John slowed a bit. “Do what?”

“You touched a certain spot somewhere, it felt really good, please try to do it again...”

John shifted, and the spot was stimulated again. Gilbert cried out, nails sinking into the other so hard that it was probably drawing blood, but John said nothing, only continuing to move. His thrusts were clumsy at first, but they evened out as he got used to how it felt.

“Nn...” Gilbert whimpered against the other, mind going blank as pleasure coursed through him. He didn't need to think. He just let go, allowed himself to respond to the movements, rolling his hips forward as the other slammed in. It was so good, so raw, and he was enjoying every bit of it. He loved the weight of the other's body pressing him down, he loved the way the hay underneath him dug into his back as he was rocked back and forth, he even liked the smell of dust and sweat that filled the air. Really, the hayloft in the barn was the best place they could have done this.

“Doing okay?” John asked as he heard no words from the other for a bit too long.

“G-great,” Gilbert gasped out. His voice was low, filled with desire. “Please... just keep going. I love it.”

“This feels so weird, and what if we get caught...”

“It'll be fine. No one is gonna catch us.”

“...You can see the future, I trust you.” John leaned his head forward, resting it near Gilbert's, and the younger boy moaned as the friction between them grew hotter. He shifted his legs, opening them a bit and shuddering at the sensation of the other slamming into him, and then hooked his ankles around his lower back again. He used his heels to pull the other against him, encouraging him to keep moving, harder and faster.

The pleasure was building, Gilbert squirmed as the sensation threatened to overwhelm him, whining and moaning. Pressure coiled in his groin, building up to an edge, it was all so unfamiliar yet he didn't want it to stop, he had to get to that point, this was incredible...

He wasn't sure exactly what did it, but it seemed that after a few minutes, John happened to move in just the perfect way, and Gilbert felt his muscles seize. The ecstasy spiked as the most intoxicating sensation rushed through his body, and he screamed as the tension inside him suddenly released.

The high faded away as quickly as it had arrived, and he slumped back, panting and exhausted. His eyes opened, staring up at the ceiling in shock.

“Nn, Gil...” John groaned, and Gilbert jumped when the other boy thrust in a lot harder than before. There was a startling sensation of liquid inside him, and though it was pleasantly warm, it somewhat disgusted him. He was too tired to care at the moment, though.

Catching his breath, Gilbert said. “Wow. That... was something.”

The older breathed deeply, taking a few moments to collect himself before pulling out. He brushed his hair out of his face and said, “Yeah. Hm.”

“Oh man.” Feeling dirty but satisfied, Gilbert pushed himself up on his elbows. It was somewhat difficult with the hay under them, but he managed. “Heh. That was a lot more fun than I was expecting.”

“Really tiring though. I'm really tired.” John yawned.

“But did you like it?”

“I liked it. It was weird, though. You being a boy and all...”

Gilbert shrugged. “Hey, it felt good and we were able to finish. If boys were never supposed to do that with each other then why does it still feel good?”

“Good point. You always have good points.”

“I know. Heh, I kinda wanna just go to sleep after all that...” Gilbert slowly flopped over into the hay, yawning.

John paused to pick up his shirt, wiping his stomach off. He looked over at Gilbert. “Hey, you kinda...” He gestured to the other's belly.

The younger glanced down and saw that his release had covered his stomach in a fair amount of fluid. He grabbed his own shirt to wipe himself clean. He'll wash it off later. Then he snuggled into the hay, closing his eyes. “You mind if I stay here overnight?”

“Um... sure, you can stay. But you should leave before sunrise so no one finds you.”

“Will you stay here too?”

“I have to go eat dinner. But... I can come back out, maybe?”

“If you want. I'll see you later.”

“All right.” John got up and wiped himself off before getting dressed. Gilbert watched him, waving at him as he headed to the ladder and climbed down out of the loft. Once the other was gone, he sighed and closed his eyes again.

“That was fun,” he murmured to himself happily, sinking into a deep sleep with his body remaining pleasant and warm.

 

Gilbert had many more flings with John, as he tried to determine if he felt any love for him at all. But he was soon forced to conclude that he didn't. He still didn't know what the feeling was supposed to be, and was convinced he just couldn't feel it. He didn't really mind. He had better things to focus on than romance.

Like developing his powers. Very carefully, he had obtained a tome that taught one how to harness their psychic energies. The methods were questionable, but they worked. He was pleased to find that he was growing stronger. He would teleport to greater and greater distances, soon not even needing to know what his destination looked like. It just took him willing himself to go there.

He managed to transport himself to London, and had proceeded to spend several hours roaming the city, in awe of the big buildings and crowds of people. This was nothing like his little village. He also couldn't really speak English, which the majority of the people here spoke. But he still managed to barter with a merchant for a piece of candy, which he rolled in his mouth as he explored.

His frequent disappearances were not missed by his neighbors, who soon renewed their claims that he was making deals with demons, living in sin and defying God. And by the age of sixteen, Gilbert had gained so much confidence in himself that he didn't even deny the last part. He proudly proclaimed himself to be a nonbeliever, taking joy in the shocked and offended looks he would receive, only laughing at how they tried to convince him to change his ways.

“This is who I am!” he would yell, gracefully leaping back from swung fists and thrown items. “You claim I'm the sinner, and yet you are the ones attacking me! Your hypocrisy is astounding!”

And if he _really_ wanted to ruffle some feathers, he would find something to swing around, usually the wooden pole of a market stall or lantern post, and press his body to it suggestively as he winked at bystanders.

“Maybe I am a devil,” he would tease. “They say that Lucifer is very handsome and charming.”

Such boldness usually led to him having to flee, but he enjoyed riling up the villagers. He found it amusing, just how outraged they would get just because he happened to live his life differently. He was carefree, joyous, living how he wanted to live. The things he was doing weren't hurting anyone. It was just unusual. And people took a long time to adjust to unusual things.

Agnes was constantly telling her son that he needed to stop being so confrontational. That she accepted him for who he was, but he didn't need to go around flaunting how strange he was. Keep it private, she insisted. Or else they could decide to kill him.

“I'd like to see them try,” Gilbert chuckled, moving his fingers and watching lightning dance between them.

“They could come in the night, burn our entire house down,” Agnes said worriedly.

“No they won't. They're too afraid of me to try. I want to keep it that way.”

“Fear can lead to panic. Panic can lead to people doing terrible things.”

“True. But I see no such thing happening in our future.” Gilbert wasn't one for hugs, but he gently pulled his mother into one, holding her close. She seemed so much smaller than him. He could remember when he had to look up at her. Time passed so quickly. “We'll be okay.”

She nodded slightly. Then she said, “Son, when are you going to get married? It's about time for you to find a wife.”

Why did this conversation always seem to come up? Gilbert sighed. “I don't want to get married.”

“Every boy wishes to get married one day.”

“I don't. It's never been a concern. In my future, I see myself going to college. Traveling the country. Becoming educated and discovering new things. Maybe I could study my own powers and figure out how they work. Imagine if other people could do this. Magic, science... it's not so different. I could spend my entire life learning about it! Why should I distract myself with romance?” He pulled away from her. “I don't even feel love.”

“I'm sure you do, you love me and your father, don't you?”

He huffed. “That's different. Of course I do. But those feelings are only for you two. Love is powerful affection, right? Well, I do like my friends. But not that way. Even John, I...” He trailed off, swallowing. His mother didn't know about that.

“John? What about him?”

“Well, you see... I don't feel this romantic love everyone talks about. But... I feel lust. I definitely know I feel that. So sometimes I act on it without the love part. And John... happened to be the first person I laid with.”

“A _boy_? You laid with a _boy?!_ ” Agnes looked horrified.

“Yes, and it wasn't that bad! I don't get why people call it unnatural and an abomination when it felt great! And it only got better as we got used to each other! There's nothing wrong with it!”

“You are supposed to wait until you're married! But you aren't, and... with another boy...” She quickly moved over to a chair, sinking into it.

Gilbert rolled his eyes. “Ma...” He sank down next to her. “It's okay. Look at me, I'm fine. I haven't been struck down or anything. It's just sex. And I don't love John. So... it's no big deal.”

“I'm so scared for your soul... honey, you really need to return to God... please, before it's too late.”

“I've already explained this to you. I'm not a believer. I can't force myself to believe in something when I don't. I'm atheist. I can use magic and I feel an attraction to men and women. It's just who I am. And if you can't accept that, then it's not my problem.”

“Maybe I did give birth to a demon...” Agnes whispered, almost too quietly to hear.

But nonetheless, Gilbert heard it. And he backed away. For a few moments, his expression was hurt. Then his eyes hardened. “Fine. If that's what you think of me. I'll give these people a reason to call me that.” He whipped around, stalking over to his room and grabbing his book on magic. He returned to the main room, opening it so Agnes could see the cover. Before she could react, he teleported away.

If the people in this town wanted to be spiteful toward him, then he would at least make it so no one would ever want to threaten him again.


	6. "Please grant me strength."

It was amusing. Gilbert had spent his life convincing people that he wasn't a demon, that he wasn't possessed by Satan, that his powers existed naturally and he hadn't made any deals to get them. But here he was now, deep in the woods, drawing out a pentagram as he planned on calling on the forces of darkness for assistance. He would give a small payment and in return receive extraordinary power. Then the people would fear him. They won't want to ever criticize him again.

He wasn't going to hurt anyone, of course. Not if they didn't provoke him. But he wasn't going to let them know that.

Once he was done with the pentagram, he began writing out the necessary sigils detailing what exactly he wanted from the demon he would be summoning.

“I was born in the wrong time,” he sighed as he worked. “I bet if it were a hundred years from now, people would be so much smarter, and I wouldn't have to deal with this... If only I could see that far.” But he couldn't. He has tried to look that far into the future, but he couldn't see any more than a few months. Maybe once he was older, he would have stronger vision. But what he had now did just fine.

The last rune was in place. He placed candles at certain positions along the pentagram and then lit them. Then he stepped to one of the points of the star and took out a knife. He took in a breath and looked up at the stars. He had spent the day out here memorizing the incantation he would need to use and studying how to draw the pentagram, as well as meditating. It was night now, and he found the constellation he had been born under, twinkling high above him. It wasn't that impressive to look at, really. A sort of figure eight formed with stars, one half of it a much larger square, the other half somewhat narrower... Like a bird and its head, almost. Specifically... a peacock.

“Pavo,” he addressed the stars. “Please grant me strength.” His eyes lingered on a particular star in the pattern, which was known as Pavonis. Literally, “peacock.” Silly, but a strong name nonetheless.

He lowered his gaze to the pentagram and set his expression, clearly reciting the necessary incantation. He felt himself grow dizzy as he said the words, and knew that it was his magic being drained out to activate the circle. The lines he had drawn glowed an intense red, he held his palm over the center of the pentagram, and sliced his hand open with the knife.

It hurt, but he managed to say the last word without pausing or stuttering. Blood splattered into the grass, and the entire pentagram seemed to glow red, energy pulsing from it. He dropped the knife and stepped back, cradling his wrist as his hand continued to bleed. He would bandage it later. He still needed the blood.

There was a blinding light, like trying to stare at the Sun, and he squinted at it before giving up and looking away. When it faded, he looked back to see... nothing.

Confused, he began examining the area. Where was the demon? He didn't see anything but trees, and the glow of the circle was dying down. What-

Then a cold chill went down his spine, and the area felt like the temperature had dropped. He couldn't see his breath, but he felt like it was winter. Shivering, he continued to look around. He could feel a presence, something or someone watching him. There was magic here. He could sense it. He called out his request to the spirits, asking for strength to be granted to him in return for an offering of his blood.

Then he heard a cold voice that was so quiet he could almost believe it was his own thoughts.

“Here's an even better offer, child... I'll take even more than that, and give you power on par with that of a demon.”

Gilbert felt a thrill of excitement at the voice. “I can give you more, and get more? That sounds fair to me.” He couldn't believe it. An actual demon was speaking with him.

The presence shifted, and he could feel what seemed to be icy claws drifting over him. “You could be so strong,” the disembodied voice continued. “I could help you... just let me take what I want from you, and you'll gain power beyond your wildest imagination.”

Gilbert was intoxicated by the offer of power, drunk on the energy that was already coursing through him, as the spirit offered him a taste. And he could have more... he wanted more.

“Yes, make me powerful!” he called.

Laughter filled his head, and the glow of the circle disappeared completely, leaving the area almost unnaturally dark. “As you wish.”

Pain consumed him, so potent that he screamed and fell to his knees, hands grasping his head. His bleeding hand was pulled away by an unseen force, squeezed, forcing blood out. Then his knife was lifted from the ground, and he cried louder as the blade began slicing at him randomly, cutting through his clothes with ease, causing his blood to spray out and then disappear as the invisible being absorbed it.

“No, stop, please!” he begged, falling to the ground completely as the agony sliced through him inside and out.

“This is what you wanted, isn't it? You'll be strong when this is over, but in ways you never expected! Once I rip you out of this weak mortal form!”

“N-no, this isn't what I wanted, I want to live, stop!”

“Boy, you have barely begun to live! Once you start your new life, you'll understand why I tore you out of this weak, limited one!”

It felt like claws were sunk into Gilbert's heart, and he convulsed as they yanked, blood pouring out of his mouth and nose. He gagged, unable to breathe.

“You like stars, I see. You wish on them, you used one in this summoning circle. I think you'll appreciate a star as your new form.”

“P-please,” he coughed, voice beginning to fail. “I didn't want this.”

“Then you should have been more specific. This is what happens when you deal with demons, child. Now... get out of that body and join me.”

The claws twisted and pulled harder, the pain grew to a fever pitch, and talking had become impossible. His lungs would not draw in air. Gilbert could feel his consciousness slipping as shock seized his body, and he knew he was going to die. He groaned, closed his eyes, and allowed his soul to be torn apart as everything went black.

 

Consciousness returned quickly. A young being groaned and opened his eyes- eye in confusion, blinking and looking around to find himself laying in the grass. He pushed himself up, and found himself levitating. It happened effortlessly, and he flailed a bit as he tried to adjust to how he suddenly felt smaller. Where was he? What happened? ...Who was he?

He held out his arms, staring at the short and pure white limbs, fingers sharply hooked like claws. He looked down, finding that he no longer seemed to have a head or torso or any other distinct body sections. He had legs, white like his arms, feet ending in points rather than toes. Every part of himself that he could see glowed a light blue-violet color.

He wanted to speak, but had no mouth. He wasn't breathing, but felt fine. He touched his... face? Could this be called a face? He felt a single eye but no other features. He moved his hands along a flat surface that buzzed with energy, going out until he felt points. He quickly counted how many he had. Five. Like a star. In fact, his arms seemed to connect somewhere along the side points.

“What am I?” he asked, and flinched at his own voice. How had he done that without a mouth? Telepathy? Was he projecting it with his mind? He was so confused, he didn't know anything about how he got here or why he looked like this. He had a name, right? Gill... Gilbert. That was part of it. He wasn't sure about anything else.

He carefully floated around, and soon came upon a body lying on the ground, covered in bloody gashes. A knife laid nearby. A feeling of dread filled him, and he flew down to gently roll the body over onto its back. As soon as he saw the face, he remembered.

Gilbert Reidheid! A psychic who spent much of his time alone studying because few people wanted to associate with him, who had few friends, was anti-religious and never sought out a wife, who wanted to improve his powers so he came out here and-

The being screamed and flew back. He hit a tree and whipped around to face it. In his shock, he threw his hands forward, and lightning struck the tree at his command. He reeled back, surprised. He could control lightning? Oh, right... Gilbert could do that! Wait, was he... Disoriented, the star-shaped being sunk onto his ankles, wrapping his arms around his knees and resting his forehead against them. Though he didn't exactly have a forehead... just an area over his eye. Close enough.

He sat next to the body for several minutes as he tried to remember, but it was all hazy. He remembered pain and the whispered words of a demon... but not much else. He didn't move until a hand touched him.

He jerked and looked up to see a snake next to him, its head up and intelligent eyes watching him. It was huge, like one of the great serpents of South America that he has read about, with inky black scales patterned in strange swirls of many different colors. Unlike a normal snake, it had a pair of lean arms, its hands ending in sharp claws. Its eyes were green and slitted.

“What... who are you?” he asked uneasily.

The snake's tongue flicked out, then it moved its jaw and spoke. “You can just call me the Serpent. I'm the one who answered your call for power.”

“My call...” The star glanced at the body laying dead nearby. “So that is me?”

“Yes. Or was, rather. But your soul is gone from that body. It's in this form now.” Serpent touched one of his points. “This is you, Gilbert.”

“I... I didn't want this, my parents, they'll be so heartbroken, I was their only child...”

“They're young enough to still have another, are they not?”

“My mother is barren. It was only through the blessing of the stars that she was able to have me, she said.”

“Unfortunate. They will be distraught, no doubt. But now you are free to be the psychic you've always wanted to be. Make yourself known to the world. People will summon you, give you rewards for helping them. Gold, blood, souls... all will give you more strength. You have a wonderful immortal life ahead of you, as long as you are careful. Demons can be hurt, and we can be killed.”

“So... I'm a demon now?”

“Yes. You have a new identity. Embrace it.”

Gilbert sighed, and leaned over to touch his old body, wishing he had a mouth with which to frown. He ran his hand through his curly red hair, thinking about his father, whose hair was just like it, only shorter. He could still cry, apparently; he felt tears in his eye.

“You can take on any form you wish, you know,” Serpent said. “Your powers lie with reality alteration, and you live within reality. You can appear in whatever shape you want... even that of your old body. But the star will always be your natural form.”

“The star will always be my natural form...” He looked up at the sky, locating his constellation. “Pavonis.” His eye narrowed. “I won't be called Gilbert anymore, then. My new name will be Pavonis. After the peacock star.”

“Heh, it fits. Just wait until you see your colors.”

“My...” The newly-named Pavonis carefully created a mirror with his powers, finding the task to be easy. He looked at himself curiously. His pupil was large and round in his single eye, and his middle section was purple. He did indeed have a five-pointed star shape. And wow, the array of colors! The top was white, and going clockwise, went to yellow, then red, then green, then orange. Not such a bad combination... he liked it. “Wow. I really am a peacock, huh?”

“It's your star, and it influenced you. Most demons have blessings from stars. Not all. But most. Some even have the luck of being blessed by an entire constellation, but I haven't seen that in quite some time. Those beings usually have amazing magical power.” Serpent patted his arm and turned away. “I must go, but good luck in your travels. Know that you can always find other demons to help you if you get lost, but be careful... not everyone is as nice as I am. Farewell.”

“Oh. Farewell.” Pavonis watched him go, and resumed examining his appearance. He touched the reflection gingerly, and then looked up at the sky. “I'm a demon now. My family will never know what happened... no one will. I can't tell them about this. I only wanted to be strong, but this... they would never accept me like this, they'll reject me...” He floated up, turning away from his old body. “I should go. I could... go far away. To England. Or Ireland. Or even...” He began to grow more excited at the possibilities. “Across the sea to the rest of Europe! France! Germany! I could go to Asia, or Africa! Or even...” He gasped. “The Americas! Anywhere I want!”

Forget his old life of seclusion and being mocked and distrusted. Pavonis had a new life now, a life he could control. And he was going to do what he wants, go where he pleases, without anyone trying to tell him what was wrong or what was right. The entire world was his. He was going to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Gilbert... but I guess you either die a cinnamon roll, or live long enough to become a problematic fave.  
> well that's it for Pavonis's story, hope y'all enjoyed. I may do things with him adjusting to being a demon, but this is probably gonna be it. If you have any questions, just ask. :)


End file.
